











•5 ^. 
















^.. ,<> .>^^/:-> '"'^^. ^' 'N 




»^.* -^ 



.A' 



\'^' -^^ 



^ •- 






0-0 



o V 






^[* .^' '^, V 












\^. 



^ ^^v^f 



A^' 






i>' ^, 









^^* 4-^- 



'bV 



^^0^ 
4^^^ 









^c?> *' e, V o ' ..^^ 



, n • 4O 
^ Ci>^ » • ' , 



^^0^ 






o V 



^' 










•^^ 














'v- r«* - o " o 





\p. .V- 







,^^ 



.V 






<^^ 




v>*\';«M,'o v,^*' 






o^ 



uriilihlliHIIilllilllllillli.l.llillliillllllllllllliillllllllinilinililiilllllllllllllllllllllllMlllillll 

I THIS AND THAT | 

I AND I 

I THAT AND THIS I 



I THE REV. CHARLES JOSIAH ADAMS, D. D. 

I Author of 

I Where Is My Dog; or, Is Man Alone Immortal? The 

I Racing Parson; or, How Baldy Won the County 

I Seat. Robert G. Ingersoll, et al., and the 

I Clerical Attire, Etc. Reprieve and 

I Other Poems; Mope Undef erred, 

I Awakenings With, In Athens, 

I Etc., Etc, 



I NEW YORK: | 

I J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY | 

I 57 Rose Street | 

%iniiiiiiiiiiiHiiiniiiiiHiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiii»ir;i,inwmiii:iniiiii:iiii!iiiiiii;ii!i;!iii!» 



UfluiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinBMniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii^ 

I THIS AND THAT | 

I AND I 

I THAT AND THIS I 



I BY 

I THE REV. CHARLES JOSIAH ADAMS, D. D. 
i > 

= AUTHOB OF 



I Where Is My Dog; or, Is Man Alone Immortalf The 

I Racing Parsmi; or, Hoic Baldy Won the County 

I Seat. Robert G. Ingersoll, et ah, and the 

I Clerical Attire, Etc. Reprieve and 

I Other Poems; Hope Undeferred, 

I Awakenings With, In Athens, 

I Etc., Etc. 



I COPYEIGHT, 1919, BY CHABLES JOSIAH ADAMS | 

I NEW YORK: | 

I J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY | 

I 57 Rose Street i 



%Biinni 



19 



-.^^ 



, > 



\ 



* * 

t « c 



IG1.A51211'7 

JAi^ 20 13 13 



DEDICATION. 

To Joseph K. Nye, 

That Keen Enjoyer of All Good Things, Including 
Those of Literature, 

I, in Appreciation of His Generous Friendship, 
Heartily Dedicate 

This, the Latest of My Long Poems, 

THIS AND THAT, AND THAT AND THIS. 

Charles Josiah Adams. 



PEEFATORY 



Being lamentably beyond the age for war-service, not 
being able to be abroad for recreation, and not caring to 
sit about a summer-resort, I spent my month-of- August 
vacation this year at the rectory — my Reclusory. But I 
must do something. So I composed the following poem 
• — hoping that through its hintings there might be a 
slight revelation of the comfort one may find in Corre- 
lation. 

In sending out This and That and That and This, 
there come to me criticisms of my last longer output in 
fettered language — Awakenings. Something to be left 
to the publisher.* 

Another thing. I refer to The Brotherhood of St. 
Andrew. Question has arisen as to my connection with 
the origin of that body. Before.it appeared as we now 
know it, I organized an order under that name, basing it 
on the account that ''Andrew first finding his own 
brother Simon . . . brought him to Jesus. ' ' My thought 
was that it should be a secret order. The press took up 
the matter. Those appropriating the name and the basis 
thought differently. A mistake? I was not consulted. 

Charles Josiah Adams. 
St. Luke's Rectory, 

RossviLLE, Staten Island, N. Y. 
Thanksgiving Day, 1918. 



*See, at the end of this book. — The Publisher, 



THIS AND THAT 

AND 

THAT AND THIS 

Is this or that a possibility, 

A that or this not actuality? . . . 

Thus touched the riddles, through a question terse, 

So mind-confounding, of my universe — 

Of me — of what me in connection brings 

With not-to-number-multitude of things — 

I, consciously, the centre of a whole 

Complex, in common with each sentient soul — 

From occupier of a regal throne, 

To tiller of an acre, far and lone ; 

From that monstrosity, the millionaire, 

To beggar of his morsel, anywhere ; 

From the philosopher, who, smiling, feels 

Important, to the spaniel at his heels; 

From lordly eagle, mounting to the sun, 

To mayfly, of a life so quickly run; 

From Super-Ego, to the smallest mote 

Of life, awing, afoot, acrawl, afloat — 

As Super-Ego there must be ; for how, 

Without a Super-Ego, All allow! . . . 

But, knowing me, attention I'd confine 
To me, and to the universe that's mine — 
To me, but as a representative 
Of minor egos, which together live — 
My universe, and how, respectively, 
I act, react on it, and it on me. . . . 

As bees, in swarming, to a branchlet go, 
Unnumbered illustrations to me flow — 
All-buzzingly — increasingly — until 
I stay their coming by an act of will — 



4 THIS AND THAT 

That which I may the more effective make, 
I turn me to my table — pen I take — 
In thought of choosing ^lie more pertinent, 
To showing what by this and that is meant, 
With that and this — ^with ego making me — 
In action and reception — trinity : 

That there would be no thumb, without a mate — 

The correlating finger — need I state? — 

Or fingers — which together with it act 

Conjointly, that my hand may be a fact? — 

Two hands I have ; and, that I may apply 

Them to an end desired, two arms have I ; 

And as I rise, or move, to something meet, 

Or shun, employ I then a pair of feet; 

As inwardly my observation probes, 

I find that in my brain are coupled lobes; 

O'er which the meeting of parietals 

Within the claiming of the dual falls; 

And — not my body-duals all to sing — 

Two eyes, ears, nostrils have I functioning 

And my asserting, there's a that to each 

Of these, will any 'bodied soul impeach? — 

Would there be thumb and finger, tip to tip. 

Naught delicate to taking in their nip ? — 

Would there be thumb and fingers, with their clasp, 

Together coming, were no thing to grasp — 

As handle of the cup or drinking-gourd, 

Or pick, engraver 's-tool, or hilt of sword. 

Or tiller of the ship, gone out to sea. 

Surrounded by whatever dangers be, 

By nature scattered, or, by brooding, brought 

From depths infernal of the selfish thought, 

Or wheel, or lever of the motor-car. 

Or of the airplane, piercing spaces far, 

To brutal bombing of the open town — 

Enough to make a fallen-angel frown — 

Or bar of stretcher, used to bear away 

The powder-fodder, from where cannon play, 

Or knob of door, admitting to the poor, 



AND THAT AND THIS 5 

Who, may be faultful, suffering endure, 

Or handkerchief, to wipe the tears from cheeks, 

Or purse, to aid the one who succor seeks? — 

Would I be double-handed, naught to climb, 

For fruit, or mountain, to the heights sublime, 

Were no soprano, as the bass, to play. 

Were not the need of supplemental stay, 

The steadiness that's needed to afford. 

As when I use the mahl-stick, saw the board — 

Whene'er coordination's to the fore. 

As 'tis the more, as I develop more? — 

Would I have arms, were burden not to hold, 

Were not, on earth, my darling to enfold? — 

Would feet, to my support, of use be found, 

Were pavement not, or floor, or solid ground? — 

Would I have brain, were not the things without. 

Within, to be perceived, and thought about? — 

And would my head be, as cathedral, domed, 

Were not my instrument of thought there homed? — 

Were there no discords, melodies, no cheers, 

No groans — no sounds at all — would I have ears ? — 

Did uglinesses, beauties not arise — 

Were naught to see — would I have eyes? — 

Were there no fragrance of the lily, rose. 

No stench of garbage-plant, would I have nose? . . . 

The couples — parts of a complexity. 

With three-dimension body, serving me — 

My ego, subject: call it what one may — 

The something in the body, one may say, 

Persisting in its growth and in its flux — 

Of its existence, certainly, the crux — 

Sustaining it through its climacterics — 

Till Charon claims this something at the Styx — 

Or some one — as the engineer, at sea. 

Deep in the bowels of the argosy — 

Or anxious captain, on the bridge without, 

For danger to the vessel, eyes about — 

Or trusted navigation-officer, 

In studying the chart, directing her — 



6 THIS AND THAT 

An illnstration, as all figures do, 

Completely failing, at a point or two; 

But, ^midst the tropes, of an unending roiind, 

A better presentation to be found? — 

My matter-body's service better than 

Can come from horse, or dog, or other man ; 

For each of them an ego, and disposed, 

It may be, 'gainst whate'er may be proposed, 

Whilst, 'midst the other things regarded true, 

It and myself more nearly one in two — 

It being, in my temporality, 

The medium through which I utter me — 

Through which, with often-failing might and main, 

I struggle for the thing I would attain — 

If I be sensible, but faintly know, 

What I, to all, through matter-body owe, 

It caring for, upon a sober plan. 

Disposed to getting from it all I can — 

Training it to a keen efficiency, 

Along the lines ambition marks for me — 

Working it steadily, from day to day. 

Regardful of its needed hours for play — 

Protecting it from overworking strain. 

In too contracted thought of sudden gain — 

In guarding it from risks and dangers, when 

They're useless, when they're necessary, then 

Hailing them, on my seeing them afar — 

As did the white-plumed Henry of Navarre — 

Who, quaking for his viatter-body 's weal, 

Where whistling balls were flying, clashing steel, 

Resolved, that ne'er again a thought he'd lend, 

In strife, his ''worthless carcass" to defend! — 

Exception ! — It should have the thoughtful care 

'Tis needing, all the while and everywhere — 

Not slacking, when 'tis overcome by sleep — 

From accidents, pollutions, foes, who creep. 

With murd'rous suddenness to on it fall — 

And from oblivion to duty's call. . . . 

Such care not possibility unless 

I'm waking — in a state of consciousness? — 



AND THAT AND THIS 

Ask trembling one, escaping the abyss, 

Who fell asleep on brink of precipice; 

Was so overcome beside the slimy Nile, 

And just escaped the mouth of crocodile ; 

Who sank exhausted in the tropic-brake, 

And shudders at constriction of a snake; 

Who, when the man-o'-war about to sink, 

Came to, upon destruction's wat'ry brink; 

Where cannon thundered, in the mighty game 

Of war, awoke, when, sharply : ' ' Fall in ! ' ' came. . . . 

And, What's my ego? is the question now. . . . 

Submicroscopic germ, shall I allow, 

As scientists insist^ — a germ, which hives 

With germs of the infinitude of lives 

Contained in three-dimensioned matter — none 

To be distinguished from another one — 

Not less important, in the Common Thought, 

The meanest, than the one from which I m brought — 

From that of shrew to that of elephant — 

From that of wren, to that of elegant 

Plumed splendor of the tropic-forest span, 

From that of worm to that of fisherman ? — 

Or is it plan, as of sea-architect. 

To many workmen given to perfect, 

Each of them doing his allotted part, 

According to the standardizing-art, 

Their work coordinating, that the boat. 

Conceived by one alone, may be afloat? — 

Or is my ego — from eternal past. 

Through present and the future, on to last — 

Able to take upon it matter-form, 

In three-dimensions, after settled norm? — 

The stubbornness of matter making it 

Impossible to get a perfect fit — 

So that its form is but a hint, at best. 

Of normal beauty, which should it invest — 

In which is possible a hint to see 

Of what my fourth dimension beauties be, 

And, better still, as I progress through more 

Dimensions — of these being more than four — 

Until, at last, in substance, or in mind, 



8 THIS AND THAT 

My ego, in perfection, is to find — 

If independent ego, living on, 

Be possible. — But more of that anon. . . . 

Though not dependent, I should seem to be, 

On matter-body, to the last degree — 

As seen, in that an I an I may reach 

By other ways than gesture, look, or speech — 

In that, through subtile ether, may be brought 

And sent, between them, feeling, passion, thought, 

Eelayed, or intercepted, possibly, 

As wireless, often, by a ship at sea — 

Through that I may from matter-body part — 

Especially, on mission of the heart — 

And reach another I, o'er spaces wide, 

To egos meaning naught, which them divide — 

As to me proved, within a night or two, 

When my beloved, absent, to me drew — 

Which goes to show that I've a body more 

Than that in three-dimensions brought to fore — 

That, matter-body left, there seems to be. 

At least, another 'bodiment of me. — 

No more? — As many, maybe, as the spheres 

In which the I, successively, appears — 

The which it may be able to lay by. 

Until it is revealed, essential I — 

As one, his overcoat, his body-coat, 

His waistcoat, till his body is to note 

In nudity. — But touched again the thought 

Which must be, later, to attention brought. . . ,. 

I need not state, it is so clearly seen, 

My matter-body moves, as a machine, 

A force, mysterious as forces all 

Which under my consideration fall — 

The fact, of any force, the all we know — 

Investigation breaking on: Tis so! — 

As breaks the sea, howe'er it frets and roars. 

Or calmly beats, on circumambient shores. — 

Take any force. — I may adduce the same. — 

But am I able it to more than name ? — 

As electricity. — What may it be? — 



AND THAT AND THIS 

The final answer: Electricity! — 
Phenomena I know I know, and know 
I know I know. — So on. — No more! — 'Tis so, 
Without essential knowledge, I'll remain — 
Until, if ever, I its sphere attain. . . . 

The force in matter-body not connect, 

Is service from its members to expect? — 

Would it be more than — pulsing, beating on 

Awhile, to, useless, stop — automaton — 

As is the automobile, clutches out, 

Chauffeur-abandoned, in a care about 

Some other thing, neglectful, in my yard — 

Its unconnected engine going hard? — 

When he's returned, the proper clutch in place, 

The automobile's off, for ride or race. — 

Then the chauffeur, as hand I see him lay 

Upon controlling lever, and away, 

His other hand, in guiding, at the wheel, 

May well be representing me, I feel, 

In my conducting, as I 'd have it be, 

And do, the matter- 'bodiment of me. — 

He managing the car, 'tis clearly seen, 

There's something common him and it between. — 

Of inorganic matter it consists. 

While in organic matter he exists. — 

The latter but the former, till revived, 

Or till, through protoplasm, vivified — 

He, having members, touching, laying hold 

Of parts, through which 'tis started and controlled. 

Directing matter-body, it must be 

That I and it have commonality — 

Which, in my substance-body, gives a trace, 

As inorganic of organic base 

In matter — be it ne'er so sublimate. 

Or found in lower, or in human state. — 

Then, the chauffeur, could he the better drive, 

As practice and experience arrive, 

Or could he drive at all, or aught avoid, 

His matter-body's senses unemployed. 



10 THIS AND THAT 

Through which to see and hear and touch ? — And these, 

In substance-body, matched by faculties — 

As are the members of my matter-form, 

"Wliich, in the physical, my will perform: 

In memory experience I store, 

And that of others, from the ages' lore; 

From reason come conclusions, clean and bare, 

Uncompromising, when the facts are there; 

Through the imagination, works of art, 

From thought utilitarian apart. 

Excepting, beauty is, in self, a food, 

Developing the sense and love of good, 

Expressed in poems, paintings, statues and 

In structures looming, which for ages stand, 

In fine discoveries, which lessen pain. 

Inventions, which reduce the constant strain 

Of life, conserving time, contracting space, 

And supplementing ^^sion, that the grace 

Of constellations be appreciate. 

Their magnitude — suggestive of the fate 

Sublime of one, who instruments the star 

In wrinkle of the Milky Way afar ! — 

Through hope, I have what I would here attain. 

My loved and lost my arms embrace again, 

And, if I miseries endure on earth. 

The comforts, glories of another birth ! — 

Through love, I have the strengthening of home — 

Whose windows shine for me, whate 'er the gloam — 

My country — dear to me, however much 

The humankind I, serving, love as such — 

However much I feel myself a part 

Of sentient universe, with throbbing heart — 

My Church — which stands with me for all that's dear, 

Not only in Hereafter, also here ! — 

Through faith, in self, I have the strength to hold 

My way, in chosen path, however bold, 

And, whatsoever human frailties are, 

In needing him, my neighbor's at the par, 

And, over all, and under all, and through, 

The Great Creator's to Creation true! — 



AND THAT AND THIS 11 

The faculties, and all, as little worth 

As rain upon the mid-Sahara's dearth, 

The steadfast purpose lacking, settled will, 

My task, whatever happens, to fulfil! — 

As Andrew Jackson, who, with frowning start, 

When asked what he'd have done, if shot through heart 

By adversary — as the legends tell — 

Responded: ''Killed him, surely, ere I fell!" — 

Or Prince of Orange, who was used to say: 

*'I'm capable of holding on, no ray 

* ' Encouraging ! " as all the world he braved — 

As Scotland's hero, whom the spider saved 

By weaving web before the cavern, where, 

But for his will all lost, he found a lair ! — 

As, in Gethsemane, the Man of Men — 

His chosen comforters asleeping then — 

In whirlpool of all agonies in flood. 

Their volume swollen by his ''sweating blood," 

The "drops" across His blessed face arun. 

The while He highly willed: "Thy will be done!" 

And, later — His disciples far away, 

Save John, with "certain women," on that day — 

With firmness, came His cry, on Calvary: 

"And why, my God, hast thou forsaken me?" . . . 

Not claiming that, by willing, I'll attain 

My object, here, whate'er my labor-pain; 

But can my ego, howsoe'er annoyed, 

Or thwarted, never yielding, be destroyed? — 

I willing, is there not released, of course. 

And for a time sustained, a certain force, 

Through which another mind may be disposed 

To carry to an end what I proposed? — 

If not, proposed, must it not ever be 

A fact, through time and all Eternity, 

For me ? — Who first conceived that man might fly, 

Should he not see the airplane in the sky? — 

Whoever first bethought the force of steam, 

Should he not hear the locomotive scream. 

The grey hound-of -the- sea upon her way. 

The dreadnaught steaming from the inner bay, 



12 THIS AND THAT 

The cinder-piles, the soot, the qualmish smoke 

Of grimy industries of modern folk? — 

Should Franklin not, through telegraph, the 'phone, 

The cable and the wireless, places lone, 

Or populous, in separation, see 

Brought so together, that they one might be? — 

Monroe and his great secretary, should 

They not — as, in their day, none fancy could — 

Be granted sight of their fine doctrine hurled, 

To the salvation of a threatened world ? — 

Should Jesus not — with reverence I sing, 

As ''gold and frankincense and myrrh" I bring — 

St. Peter's see, where, on her Seven Hills, 

Stands Rome, and St. Sophia, where she fills 

The Eastern need, and our St. John Divine, 

St. Paul's, upon the Thames, and other fine 

Cathedrals, in their architectic loom. 

With song-processional, with organ-boom, 

Lulling for oratorical effect — 

"With mighty modern movements in respect: 

St. Andrew's Brotherhood* — St. Andrew first 

To lead to Living Waters one athirst; 

Columbus' Knights — Columbus having found, 

For freshly planting, continents of ground; 

Association of Young Men, at loss 

For Christianizing work; and the Red Cross — 

Incorporations, in the which to find, 

The ones in heart, though different in mind — 

The realizing, in our troubled time, 

The, through Apostles chosen. Plan sublime? . . .. 

How can that be, when, on the Olived Height, 
By the Apostles stood ''two men in white" — 
He cloud-received, they after Him agaze. 
Their hearts atroubled and their minds amaze — 
Saying: "As ye have seen him go from here, 
"Again" — conditions formed — "He shall appear !"- 
To forming which conditions they were sent. 



.*See Prefatory Note. 



AND TKAT AND THIS 13 

Through labor, self-denial, troublement ! — 

And He still absent? — ^When He comes again, 

'Twill be in matter-body, as 'twas then — 

As, in our matter-bodies, is apprized. 

But what is matter, or what matterized — 

By most of us — though marked exceptions be, 

In those endowed substantial things to see — 

As were the Three, who Him transfigured saw, 

And Moses and Elijah to Him draw — 

As they who comprehendingly attend 

His saying: ''Lo, I'm with you to the end!'' — 

As were the shepherds, on the Holy Night, 

To whom the Angel brought so great delight — 

As was King Saul, in Endor's awsome cave. 

When Samuel to him such terror gave — 

As was the mother, by whom, yestere'en, 

Her wounded son was so distinctly seen! — 

'Twas in the matter-body, suffered, died — 

As lived, enjoyed, no doubt — the Crucified ; 

'Twas in the substance-body that He walked 

The sea, with Moses and Elijah talked, 

** Descended into Hell," and finally, 

Ascended, with the Father, throned to be — 

Forgetting not the ones He loves on earth. 

Conjoined with Him, through the second birth. . . •, 

Must not experience, of any sort, 

With an ability be in rapport? — 

As we are privileged to have relate 

St. John — as calmly as his name he'd state — 

Could chosen *'we" have ^'handled, seen and heard," 

No hands, no eyes, no ears, to sense the **Word"? — 

And can ability be thing of thought. 

If, in the correlation, there be naught? — 

The hand would never move, to reach, to grasp, 

For use, or pleasure, naught to touch or clasp ; 

The foot would never be advanced at all, 

Nothing for it to strike — on which to fall; 

The eye would never open, look without, 

Nothing to see in all of the about; 

Never would prick, or bend, attentive ear. 

In the surrounding spaces naught to hear. — 



14 THIS AND THAT 

So far as senses and the members go, 
Of matter-body, this so plainly so 
That I repeat it but to emphasize, 
That it to faculties, as well, applies. 
Of substance-body. — Could I have a fear, 
Were nothing to me frightful to appear ? — 
And I would have no yearnings of the heart, 
Were there no thing to love, in any part ; 
I'd have no hope of immortality — 
Or other thing — did not the object be; 
I 'd have no faith, in self, or man, or God, 
No I, no man, and God a pious fraud ! . . . 

Thus I have sung my ego, and the things 

Which Correlation to its knowledge brings — 

My ego — which I know, and know I know, 

And know I know I know; and know I, so, 

Along, until I find myself abrood, 

Within the confines of Infinitude — 

As I have sung in my Awakenings — 

I knowing it as I know other things: 

Barring — o 'erwhelming singularity — 

That, in this knowing, I am knowing me ! — 

Which to the mind again the note may draw, 

I touched, in singing of phenomena — 

Which, of the psychic marvels manifold. 

Well known, no thing more striking to be told!— 

Thus, plainly, Correlation has to* do — 

With matter only? — Nay! — With substance, too, 

And spirit, and with all their entities. — 

My ego, so, of the Eternities ! — 

Of all dimensions to be thought to be. 

As well as of by-all-conceded three — 

Through which I stumble, trying to be brave — 

In which is formed the cradle, digged the grave — 

For matter-body ! — For my ego 1 — No ! — 

For Correlation will not have it so ? . . . 

So, Correlation, I unhat to thee — 
Conjoiner of me with the things which b«, 
While I am body-s«rTod, at any rate, 



AND THAT AND THIS 15 

And with an universe, so, correlate — 
The universe of matter, in its three 
Dimensions — where I struggle constantly — 
With hints that the dimensions may be four, 
And that suggesting not-to-number more — 
Until, dimensioned-matter left behind, 
Myself in substance-universe I find, 
With thought that, still beyond, more sublimate, 
Another universe — the spirit-state. . . . 

And substance-body, necessarily, 

With matter-body, commonality 

Possessing — it affecting — must it not, 

As well, uncompromisingly, be thought, 

My spirit-body must together draw 

With substance-body, 'tuning with this law— 

A law of all the bodies, which may be. 

Till ego functions independently — 

Which, till instructed further, I '11 believe 

Beyond all human power to conceive! — 

Admitted — then? — An answer there may be: 

Lost — in an AUabsorbing Entity!— 

As if the One did not necessitate 

Completion. — Many, as its correlate! — 

Without the finite egos, everywhere, 

The Universal Ego to declare? — 

If They in It can be to nothing brought, 

Must It, in Them, not be an equal Naught? . . .i 

And could one baser accusation bring 

To man, or God, than that, for anything, 

He'd 'rouse desire within a sentient mind, 

When it, itself, may disappointed find? — 

He doing so, a thinker God would deem 

As anyone a fellow would esteem. 

Who should, from slumber sweet, a child awake, 

To ask him, if a lolypop he'll take, 

For joy of seeing o'er his features run 

A look of disappointment, being none ! — 

Or jfuard, who'd sneak along a corridor, 

And, glonting, pAUM before the death-hoiUM door 



16 THIS AND THAT 

And listen for the breathing, measured, deep, 

Of the condemned, by Mercy, granted sleep, 

Who, in the early hours of coming day, 

Is, through electric-chair, to pass away, 

And enter, stealthily, to waken him. 

To ask him, in the twilight's ghastly dim, 

If a reprieve, or pardon, he would find 

To liking — being nothing of the kind! — 

Or Hun, who'd bring his victim back to life, 

To see and feel the terminating knife! — 

Or cat, which waits returning consciousness, 

Before she fangs the mouse, in final press ! — 

Nirvana — if is meant by that that I 

Am gulped — means only that I, struggling, die — 

That Moloch was a Frightfulness, to curse, 

No more than Maker of the Universe — 

Or less — for Moloch did not those create, 

Whom — in his beastly cruelty — he ate! — 

Submitting to annihilation for 

God's pleasure, must not balanced mind abhor? 

It is, in essence, but the very same 

As choosing Hell for glory of His Name I — 

Then, if I be of worth, in any way, 

Cause for absorption possible to say? — 

And whence the notion : immortality. 

If such a blessed thing there may not be? — 

Could I have notion of a tree, a rose. 

Of such a breeze as through my window blows 

This summer-morning, of the sky above. 

Of earth, of anything I hate or love. 

Were it not fact of sense, or faculty — 

Through which I come to know with certainty — 

Mistaking when I more on sense rely ? — 

'Twas thought, that, in a quarter of the sky, 

Uranus was — through calculation thought — 

And was it not, at last, to vision brought? — 

So when, if ever, from a body free, 

Still, Correlation, I'll unhat to thee! . . . 

And now? — I yield me to thy smile divine. 

And, rushing, child-like, place my hand in thine — 



AND THAT AND THIS 17 

That thou may'st lead me, over mountains rude, 

To valley still, in Faith's deep quietude — 

From labyrinthine canyons, void of light, 

To Hope's effulgent and commanding height — 

From walls of prison, to the open fields. 

Where Love her flowers and her fruitage yields — 

To vales and hills and fields of Galilee — 

To where I hear the Words: ''Come unto me'' — 

The Matter-Bodied Super-Ego's hest — 

*'Thou weary one, and I will give thee rest!" — 

As leddest thou Eomanes, till he said. 

Taking, at altar-rail, the wine and bread: 

**As reverently, now, I drink and feed. 

Is gratified, as nowhere else, a need!" . . . 

Thou leading me to Him Who suffered, died, 

That all ''should live in Him" — the Crucified — 

I, Correlation, leave my hand in thine. 

While "passing-understanding peace" is mine! 



Where Is My Dog? 

BY THE REV. CHARLES JOSIAH ADAMS, D.D. 
12mo. vol. 200 pages. Cloth bound. Price, $1.00 Postpaid. 

This book should be read by everyone. Its primary- 
object is to call attention to the lower animals — out of 
which attention, kindliness of treatment of them is 
sure to come. No one who has the power of loving 
has ever attentively studied the lower animals and 
afterwards been unkind to them. 

There is heart in the whole work. Staring' one in 
the face in every sentence of the book are trwo ques- 
tions: 1. Is Man Immortal? 2. Is the Lower Animal 
Immortal? These questions are handled in a remark- 
ably clean and philosophical manner, and Dr. Adams 
has certainly focused a flood of light upon them. 

Some Comments. 

**! really feel under deep obligations to you for your true, 
forceful words in behalf of man's best friend, the dog." 

Eugene Field. 



"It may gire you considerable standing among the angels, also, 
for I have always thought of them as interested, much like the 
children, in dogs. 

"But I observe that their reflections are all about 'Your Side* 
of things. Let me say I enjoyed the book. It is well written, 
shows gr«it observational faculty and good literary skill and 
taste" Allen H. Norcross, D.D. 



"Let me say, that, if your book is not already considered a 
classic in the literature pertaining to that most magnanimous of 
God's creatures, the dog, it ought speedily to take that rank, and 
I want to thank you most heartily for the pleasure that the 
reading of 'Where Is My Dcg?' has afforded me." 

Hiram Howard. 



"It is fuHy in line with ifke best work of the writers on dumb 
animals and kindness to them, and it should take a place beside 
'Black Beaut3r' in ^e library of every home where there are 
domestic pets." Phebe A. Hanaforb. 

Sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of Price, $1.00. 

J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
87 Rose Street, New YoiIk. 



iEPRIEVE AND OTHER POEIS 

BY CHARLES JOSIAH ADAMS, D.D. 

Doctor Adams is widely known as a writer and lecturer, 
probably more so than as a clergyman. There is a reason for 
this. He is not conventional. When he has a thing to say — 
and there is no moment when he has not something to say — he 
says it as the occasion demands — his one thought being (as he 
says of his hero, Emory M. Em'berson, in his The Racing 
Parson; or. How Baldy Won the Country Seat) — "to get what 
he has in his mind to the mind of the hearer or reader." 

It has been said of Doctor Adams: "He thinks in pictures." 
That is a good way to put it. He expresses himself in pic- 
tures. 

That being the case, it is not matter for wonder that he is 
fond of putting things in measures. 

Each of his poems is a picture, or a succession of pictures. 
Take as an example the last poem of this collection: 

"To Miss 

Afterwards 
Mrs " 

Just after the sun had retired him to rest. 
To his gorgeously curtained couch in the W€0t» 
I saw, from some mysterious where, 
A star appear in the upper air; 
And the night-winds sighed, as, in lowered tone. 
They murmered sadly: "Alone — alone!" 

But they joyously laughed — clapped their hands in my face- 
As another star came — took by him her place; 
And, together, they're reigning, and greater, by far. 
In union, than either could be as a star!" 

Could the question be popped more distinctly? Every one 
of Doctor Adams' pictures conveys something, principal or 
subordinate. In the latter case, it fits in, playing its part in 
the making of the larger picture — ^as in Reprieve, The Matter* 
horn Head, To a Midwinter Fly, The Gray Charger, the . . . 
But get the collection and r tad it! For the sake of the pic- 
tures. Not only. For Doctor Adams never gets far away 
from the idea for which he has sacrificed so much in the 
course of the decades; the idea which he has embodied in 
the word (which is his) Biophilism, the Love of Life, the 
largest expression of which he has given in his prose: 
Where Is My Dog; or. Is Man Alone Immortal? 

Reprieve and Other Poems is a book of 54 pages, size 
7% X 5, printed on antique wove book paper, from new large 
type and bound in stiff paper cover. It will be sent by mail, 
postpaid, on receipt of Price, 50 cents. 

J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
57 Rose Street, New York. 



AWAKENINGS with IN ATHENS 

BY THE REV. CHARLES JOSIAH ADAMS, D.D. 

A few of very many comments on Awakenings with 
In Athens, by the Rev. Charles Josiah Adams, D.D. 

From Bishop Winchester: "My dear Doctor Adams: It is 

exhilarating, and when you conclude with : 

" 'How many dimensions ? Seemingly four ! 

The fourth but an entrance to numberless more?' 
"the Christian imagination goes out into : 'Eye hath not seen, nor 
ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man the things 
which God has prepared for them that love Him.' " 

From Richard Edwin Day : "I had not read many lines before 
I said : 'This is a deep man.' As I proceeded I was impressed 
more and more by the subtlety of the thought, the vigor of the 
style and the justice of the views touching the higher forms of 
animal consciousness. The bits of natural description are highly 
pleasing in their bold freshness." 

From John Vance Cheney: "My dear Doctor Adams: The 
subject is of great importance, and it is a pleasure to find one at- 
tacking it so vigorously." 

From Archdeacon Pott: "My dear Doctor Adams: A de- 
, lightful tale thoughtfully told." 

'- From the Rev. Doctor Leach : "My dear Doctor Adams : You 
have a very unique freshness and insight which no others have." 

\\ From the Rev. Edward Ernest Matthews : "My dear Doctor 
Adams : You certainly have combined with an unusual power of 
(Expression a certain mystical sympathy with the lower order of 
creation, especially in the interpretation of the feelings of the dog 
Joe — which is very rare."* 

f From Bishop Burch : "My dear Doctor Adams : Keep up the 
good work, Doctor. It will do you and all your readers good." 

From Archdeacon Nelson : "My dear Doctor Adcims : Yours 
is the pen of a ready writer." 

Awakenings with In Athens is a booklet of 21 pages 
containing two poems referring to things of the Unseen. 

It will be sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price 
25 cents by the publishers. 

J. S. OGILVIE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

57 ROSE STREET 3L77»1 A'k ^^^ YORK 

Lot 74 






















V "V.^* -Ic^fA" -"^^ ,.** '^f I 



o 9 ^ "^ 






^^ 



l^ 






< 



* ♦VvT^^"^ 



-oK 



►'€il^-^. ^ 



o 



0' 






>^/ ^^^ %. 
^0^ 






'<^. 



iXt I**! 5E=ri^-v 







^ 




'..•*^ 



.^^. 






,4q. 






^ 






UN 7 8 






, V 



<^, 



*-' 


JW «^ 




^^ '^^ 


• 





r. S^ 



-^^ 



•K -^ :vxvV:^;>?. * 



A.^. 












^1°., 



